


Friend Request

by phdmama



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: AU, M/M, One Shot, side Ziam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-07
Updated: 2017-08-07
Packaged: 2018-12-12 05:10:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11730174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phdmama/pseuds/phdmama
Summary: This was written for Kassio as a pinch hit for the HL Summer Exchange, from the prompt: " Louis is bored on Facebook and in the “People you may know” suggestions, he sees the name Harry Styles. The profile picture doesn't show the person. He thinks it's an old family friend who he misses – maybe a middle-aged or elderly former neighbor or babysitter who he was fond of as a child - and sends a friend request. Turns out it's not old man Harry from their old neighborhood, it's hot young Harry (who he's never met before) who accepts his friend request..."As you can see, I did tweak the prompt a bit, but I hope I did it justice for you! (And just for the record, I actually am envisioning this as a three-part slightly longer fic!).





	Friend Request

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kassio](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kassio/gifts).



> This is a work of fiction, meant only to entertain. Please don’t break the 4th wall or post anywhere else! 
> 
> As always, the words, as well as the errors, are mine. 
> 
> A huge huge thank you to my beta, who I will name when this is revealed!!

Louis slouches in his seat in the computer lab. It’s 8:00 am on a Wednesday, and what he’s _supposed_ to be doing is writing his epistemology paper. What he _is_ doing is checking in on his farm in Farmville, attempting to beat level 254 on Candy Crush, which is a motherfucking _bitch,_ and then doing a couple of levels in his grid logic puzzle app. So he’s a nerd, whatever. He looks back at the computer that he’s currently not writing on and sighs, putting his phone away in his pocket.

He opens a new document in word, and then, feeling very functional, sticks his thumb drive in the USB port and saves the doc to it, entitling the paper MOTHERFUCKING EPISTEMOLOGY. He’s learned, he thinks proudly, remembering the Unfortunate Incident in which he’d not done this with his Musicology paper, and gotten home to find out that he’d saved it to the school computer, where it’d been promptly deleted. He makes a mental note to change the document name before he emails it to James, the TA for the class. James would probably find it amusing, but Louis thinks Professor Winston would be less forgiving.

He sighs loudly, and a girl sitting two computers over rolls her eyes at him. The blank document seems to mock him and he pulls out the rubric to look at topics. He makes at face at the list. There are thirty topics, and he hates them all. Well, he would hate them all if he had the patience to read them right now. Which, he sighs again, he does not. He drops the paper on the desk and, giving up for now, logs into Facebook.

He skims over his timeline, laughing at some of the pictures Cal and Oli have posted from the weekend. They’d had a costume party at their frat, and even though Louis is no frat boy, he does love any chance to get dressed up, and his little mermaid costume had been epic. He shares a picture of himself, blond wig askew and seashell bikini totally undone, hanging around his neck like a fancy necklace, with the commentary “HAA HAA good times good bros.” All too soon, he’s exhausted the new content on his timeline, and then he sees the link for “People You May Know.” Bored, he clicks it and a list of people Facebook thinks he might know comes up.

He mindlessly clicks through, sending friend requests to Zayn’s dad and sister, Liam’s mom, Cal’s mom (who’s known him since he was in diapers), and Mrs. Anderson, his old music teacher from middle school. Then the profile of a guy named Ed Twist pops up. Louis frowns, staring at the ceiling, wondering who this is. He assumes they’ve got some sort of connection, otherwise Facebook wouldn’t have offered him to Louis, and with a name like that, he’s probably an old dude. Maybe he’s a friend of Mrs. Anderson? His profile is pretty locked down, when Louis goes to look, all his photos are on private. The guy’s profile picture is of a henna tattooed hand playing the guitar, his banner is a rainbow flag, and there are a few generic posts supporting liberal causes. Huh. So maybe he’s gay, maybe he’s into music, and apparently he’s a liberal. Louis likes all those things, being gay and making music and supporting liberal causes, so without overthinking it, he clicks the “send a friend request” button.

Then he closes out of Facebook, and screwing his eyes closed, plants his finger down on the page of essay topics, and then looks. _11\. Briefly set out, and then critically evaluate, the response to skepticism advanced by Hilary Putnam in his "Brains in a Vat" article._ Louis frowns. He’s pretty sure he hasn’t read that one, but Brains in a Vat sound really cool, so he considers it done. Realizing he needs to go home and get the packet so that he can actually read the article, he shuts down the computer and packs up his stuff to go home, pondering that Brains in a Vat would make a really good punk rock band name, and wishing he’d never signed up for Intro to Epistemology to fulfill that last gen ed credit that he needs.

He spends the next ten hours reading the essay and then writing something that should get him a passing grade, but makes his brain hurt. He was definitely not, Louis thinks, cut out to be a philosophy major. He’s had too many new thoughts already this semester that have stretched his brain uncomfortably, so it’s probably good he hasn’t been one all along. He’s now almost halfway through his junior spring at Boston University, where he’s pursuing a double major in music and math.

He’s back in his dorm room after his late afternoon class, waiting for Liam to get back from the gym so they can go to dinner, that he thinks to hop back on Facebook and see what’s going on. He’s been distracted, but no reasonable person could blame him. Personally Louis is convinced that Liam is fucking his trainer, but Liam claims he’s not, but you don’t get love bites like that from working out, is all Louis is saying

He opens the app and checks the notifications.  He notes that his mid-paper-tormented-soul selfie has a bunch of comments and likes, and opens it up and smiles. He appreciates this new feature on the mobile app where all the likes and hearts and laughing faces sort of fly up to the top of the screen. Oli has posted a picture from the party on his timeline and when Louis opens it, he flushes, because in it, he’s down to his tiny black briefs, and has gotten a hold of Zayn’s Harry Potter glasses and Gryffindor tie, so he looks like a slutty, wasted Harry Potter. He ponders deleting it, and then, seeing the number of likes and comments, sighs. He’s a little bit of a slut for validation, he knows this about himself, and in any case, sure, he looks drunk off his ass (an accurate representation if he recalls correctly), but he also looks cute as hell, and his abs are quite nice. He resolves once more to wipe his social media if he decides to go through corporate recruiting, but lets it go for now. And then he sees it. _Ed Twist has accepted your friend request._

Who? Oh yes, then he remembers, the old guy friend of Mrs. Anderson’s, in like, his forties or something. Hopefully he won’t judge Louis too hard by his profile. Louis clicks over to check out the guy’s page. It’s pretty bare, which just confirms for Louis that he’s gotta be an old guy. Old guys really don’t _understand_ social media, Louis thinks compassionately. He scrolls down a bit, but Mr. Twist’s feed is mainly artsy photos and social justice articles. He gets a bit further and sees that someone’s posted an article about that pop singer, Harry Styles, on this Ed’s timeline, and Louis smirks a bit.

He’s heard of Harry Styles, of course. Louis has sisters, doesn’t he? In any case, unless you’ve been living under a rock, or like, in a monastery somewhere for the last several years, you’ve heard of Harry Styles. The kid is everywhere. He’s got a movie coming out, some rom com, Louis thinks, with Daisy Ridley, plus his third album was just released, not that Louis has listened to it, of course, because Louis likes #realmusic, thank you very much, not soulless corporate pop songs. Without thinking, he opens a direct message to Mr. Twist and types, “So, you’re a Harry Styles fan?”

Then Liam comes slamming into their room, and Louis is too busy giving him shit for the huge love bite he’s _somehow_ managed to acquire during his workout to notice that Mr. Twist has messaged him back.

By the time Louis gets back to Facebook, it’s late. They’ve had their dinner.  It was pasta bar night at the caf, and Louis fucking loves pasta bar night. Then they’d stopped by Ed’s room to watch some TV and drink some beers. It’s now almost 11:00, but Louis’ a college student, he’s just coming alive now, man, c’mon. You can’t expect students to be bound to conventional hours, and anyway, he doesn’t have a class until 2:00 tomorrow afternoon, so he can sleep later.

He and Liam lucked out this year. They’re in a three room double, meaning they each have a teeny, tiny bedroom, barely big enough for the XL twin bed and dresser, and they have a small sitting room, where they’ve got their desks, and have managed to squeeze a loveseat in as well. Even better, they’ve got their own en suite bathroom, also tiny but it means not having to share, which Louis really appreciates. Liam waves as he heads into his own room, and Louis flops down on the loveseat, dangling his legs over the end, and pulls open his laptop.

He fucks around on Insta for a bit, commenting and liking on the different pictures showing up on his feed, and then opens Facebook. He scrolls for a bit and then notices that he’s got a message, so he clicks on the page.

**Ed Twist: I guess. You’re not?**

Huh. There’s no introduction, no “nice to meet you, how’d we connect?” comment, and Louis just grins.

**LT91: I mean….not really, I guess. I don’t know, to be fair. I haven’t listened to his music**

He’s surprised to see that there’s typing immediately. This guy must be on-line.

**Ed Twist:  I like his new album. It’s different.**

**LT91: Oh. Gonna go see his movie?**

**Ed Twist: Ha. Nah. I don’t go to the movies much anymore.**

Louis frowns at this. How old is this guy? He’s pretty sure the movies have been around a long time, but maybe he’s got social anxiety? He feels a burst of affection for this stranger. Maybe he’s got, what’s it called? Agoraphobia, that thing where you can’t go outside.

**LT91: Going to the movies is my fav**

**Ed Twist: What do you do? You’re a student, yeah?**

Louis settles in. He’s a social sort, and loves chatting, so this isn’t too weird, he thinks. Hopefully this guy looked at his FB page too.

**LT91: Yeah, jr at BU, man. It’s good. I love living in Boston. It’s fun.**

He clicks on Mr. Twist’s page to see who they have in common, and frowns when it pops up that they don’t have any friends in common. FB’s algorithms are weird, for sure. He watches the three little dots that indicate Mr. Twist is typing to him.

**Ed Twist:  That’s so cool. What are you studying?**

**LT91: Math and music, they go together ha ha**

**Ed Twist: Music, huh? What do you like?**

And they’re off. By the time Louis closes his laptop to head to bed, it’s 2:00 in the morning, and he’s buzzing a bit. There’s something really cool about connecting with a stranger across the digital divide. Louis had noticed that Mr. Twist really didn’t share much about himself, and would often swerve any question Louis asked with questions of his own. He’d shared his taste in music (as varied as Louis’ own, including turning Louis on to some new bands and artists he’d never heard of, most of whom seem to be west coast-based), and he'd offered a few comments that seemed to suggest he was a musician himself.  As Louis brushes his teeth, he thinks it’s too bad Mr. Twist is older, because he’s funny, interesting, and probably gay, and Louis’ had a bit of a dry spell of late. But he can’t imagine dating an older guy like that, it’d just be weird.

The next day, Louis oversleeps, and is subsequently late to his statistics class, which never bodes well. By the time he’s done with his classes for the day, he’s got a headache from the caffeine withdrawal, a stomachache from the fact that he’s not had time to eat all day, and an all-around generally bad attitude. Which is why when Liam tells him that he’s not going to be able to meet him for dinner because he’s got another session scheduled with his personal trainer, Louis doesn’t respond with grace and poise.

“Fuck’s sake, Li, just admit it!” Louis slams into his bedroom as he yells over his shoulder at Liam, who is hovering in their living area, dressed in very short athletic shorts and a tight tank top. Sure, it’s been unseasonably warm for Boston in March, but not that warm.

“Admit what?” Liam says, baffled.

“Admit that you’re fucking him!” Louis throws his bookbag across his room and flops face-down onto his bed, closer to tears than seems reasonable. He knows he’s throwing a tantrum, and he’s not sure why. Honestly, he hopes Liam _is_ fucking his trainer, he’s far too uptight and in desperate need of a good bang, and the guy is built for sure.

Liam tentatively enters the room and sits down next to Louis on the bed, and begins rubbing small circles into his back. “Man, what’s up? You seem really stressed.”

Louis sighs. “I don’t know. I mean, more power to you, whatever form your workouts are taking, Li, I just. I can’t even meet strange men on the internet and you get to bang your hot personal trainer!”

Liam sighs. “I’m not fucking Bressie.” A shifty look crosses his face as he looks away and Louis narrows his eyes as he lifts his head to observe.

“Wait just a minute. You’re not fucking Bressie, but that doesn’t mean you’re not fucking someone! Who is it?”

“Uh,” Liam stutters, and Louis sits up and grabs at him. He pushes Liam down and begins tickling him, shouting “Who is it, you asshole! You’re holding out on me, and that is unacceptable!” He feels his temper tantrum evaporating as Liam shrieks and twists under his merciless attack, and finally concedes defeat when Liam manages to shove him off of him and over so that he crashes into the wall with a yelp.

“Shit, are you okay?” Liam looks worried and Louis snickers, rubbing his elbow.

“Who is it, for real, Liam.”

Liam sighs, sitting back and running a hand through his hair. “Okay, you have to promise not to freak out, okay?”

Louis sits up, feeling a frisson of anxiety running through him. “Uh, that’s not inspiring confidence, man. Who is it?” He tries to think of who Liam could be fucking that would be an issue. “Wait, is it…” He thinks hard, “Is it James? My TA? Is it that guy from the cafeteria with the…” his voice trails off as he waves his hand to indicate the impressive facial hair that the cafeteria gentleman cultivates. “Is it…” His eyes widen. “Is it a girl, Liam? Are you fucking a _girl?_ Is it Perrie? Or Bebe?” He tries to think of who Liam might be hooking up with in their extended friendship group.

Liam rolls his eyes. “No, Louis, it’s not James. It’s not a girl. It’s…” he takes a deep breath. “It’s actually Zayn.”

Louis stares at him, the words not making sense. “Zayn? Zayn who?”

Liam rolls his eyes. “How many Zayns do you know, Louis? Zayn. It’s Zayn. And we’re not just fucking. We’re, uh. We’re dating.”

“Wait a fucking minute, _what?”_ Louis knows his eyes are wide and he’s having a bit of trouble processing the information he’s just been given. Liam has been crushing on Zayn for the pretty much the entire time Louis has known him, which is the entirety of their college careers, as they’d met at accepted students day before graduating high school, where they’d immediately hit it off.

They came from similar small towns, Liam from New Hampshire, and Louis from Vermont, and they’d bonded over being rural boys headed to the big city. They’d been able to hang out that summer, had decided to room together, and had never looked back. Liam is the ego to Louis’ id. He is Louis’ motivation to get out of bed, his higher power, his executive function, and the sole reason Louis ever darkens the door of the gym. They’d come out to each other fairly quickly within an hour or so of meeting each other, shared one lackluster kiss, declared themselves brothers and moved on.

Zayn on the other hand. Zayn and Louis have been friends since before established memory. Even though they’d lived on opposite sides of the countries, their mothers had been best friends as well, so they’d spent many summers and vacations together, and had always gotten on incredibly well. Louis had loved having a cool California friend, and even in middle school, Zayn has always been both the coolest and the realest person Louis has known, and he couldn’t believe his luck when Zayn had decided to come to Boston for college as well, although he’s across the river at Harvard, the giant nerd.

In any case, they’d rapidly established a tradition of getting together every Friday night for dinner and, for over the last two and a half years, there’s been a core group of them: Louis, Liam, Zayn, Zayn’s roommate Niall, and then whoever else is around at the time. Louis will never forget the very first Friday Night Family Supper, as they’d called it, when he’d introduced his two best friends, and had watched the way Liam’s eyes had gone wide and his breath had stuttered in his chest as he’d stumbled over the introduction, unable to take his eyes off of Zayn.

Not, Louis thinks, that it’s any hardship to look at Zayn. He is a glorious motherfucker, and even though Louis has never really been that attracted to him, he does see the appeal. Zayn had seemed oblivious, and it’s been painful to watch Liam’s pining as Zayn has made his way through several different relationships. He’s been single since the fling with Perrie ended before Christmas, and hasn’t said anything to Louis about this, and Louis can’t help the pang he feels.

“How long?” He asks quietly. “How long have you two been together.”

Liam flushes, and not meeting Louis’ eyes, says, “Since Winter Carnival.”

“What?” Louis can’t help the way his voice cracks. It’s just...it hurts, is the thing. This means Liam and Zayn have been together for two months. “And neither of you saw fit to mention it to me? What the fuck, Li? What, did you think I wouldn’t be okay with it or something? How did this even happen?”

Liam runs a hand through his hair. “No, it’s just. I liked him for so long, you know that. And then, at Carnival, you were off with Cal and Oli, and Zayn asked me if I wanted to hang out, and I was like, of course, and well. Just one thing sort of led to another.”

Louis frowns. “And you didn’t think you could talk to me about it? Why?” He wonders wildly for a moment if Liam somehow thinks that he is interested in Zayn, which just. No. Okay, true, Zayn was Louis’ first kiss with a boy, but they were fourteen, for fucks sake, and immediately agreed it was just a bit too weird. Louis appreciates Zayn on an aesthetic level, but they’re too much alike in terms of impulse control issues for it to be safe for anyone if they were to date.

Liam turns to look at Louis, regret shining on his face, and goddamnit, he’s making his puppy dog eyes at Louis, and not even ironically. Louis is helpless in the face of Liam’s puppy dog eyes, and the bastard fucking knows that.

“No, I think, at first, it was just so new, and weird. I mean,” and Liam’s face breaks into a helpless smile and Louis sighs. “I couldn’t believe it, I honestly never thought anything could happen with him, you know? But he told me he’d been thinking about me...like that, for a while now.”

Louis frowns at this piece of information because Zayn has not mentioned one word to him, and he doesn’t like not knowing things, okay?

“Anyway,” Liam continues, “I think we both were so worried about fucking it up, and then it ruining everything else, you know? We wanted to wait a bit to make sure it was solid, and then, I don’t know. It just got weird, like, how do you tell your one best friend that you’re dating his other best friend? Who's also one of your best friends?”

Louis has to concede the point. “But, two months, Li? I mean, did you think I wouldn’t be happy for you? Because I am, man.” And he is. He can’t help the flush of envy that Liam seems to have gotten exactly what he’s been wanting, while Louis just can’t quite seem to find someone to connect with beyond a couple of friends with benefits things he’s had off and on over the years he’s been in Boston. “I mean, since you’re telling me, I guess that means things are...good?”

Liam flushes harder, and Louis sits up, honestly a bit alarmed at the color he’s manifesting, because he is not sure he’s ever seen Liam that particular shade of red. “Li? You okay?”

And then Liam chokes out in a strangled voice, “I love him, Lou.”

Louis rolls his eyes. Honestly. “I know that, Liam, you’ve only been telling me that for almost three years, how much you love voice and his talent and his nerdiness and his teeny, tiny ears…”

“No.” Liam interrupts him, his voice calm. “No, Louis, I mean. I _love_ him. Like big L. _In love._ All the way.” He looks embarrassed but determined, in that way that is just so quintessentially _Liam_ that Louis feels his throat thicken and blinks rapidly to dispel the suspicious moisture lurking in the corner of his eyes.

“Well, shit,” he breathes, “Does he know?”

Liam nods, smiling. “Yeah. Yeah, he does. It’s good, Louis.” He suddenly exhales and says, “Fuck, I was so nervous to tell you, I wasn’t sure if you were going to freak out.”

“Well,” Louis considers, flopping down onto his back, “I still might. I mean, I can’t believe you and Zayn have been sneaking around for weeks and didn’t tell me. Wait,” he frowns, “Does Niall know? Because that’s just not fair.”

Liam shrugs, “Uh, I think he might have figured it out when he came home early one night and….” his voice trails off and he flushes, “Um, yeah.”

Louis hoots, squashing that little burst of hurt and jealousy, “Caught you with dicks out, huh?”

Liam snorts as if he can’t help himself and then just says, “Something like that, yeah.”

Louis grabs his phone and quickly texts Zayn, “You motherfucker, don’t think we’re not going to have words about this.” He sends it and then, sighs guiltily and adds, “But I’m happy for you both, bro.”

Zayn sends back, “I’d expect nothing less from you, baby” and then the kissy-face emoji, and Louis drops his phone.

Liam glances at his phone and says, “Oh shit, I have to go, Lou.” He gets to his feet and starts to leave, then pauses by the door. “You sure you’re okay with this, man? I mean, the last thing we’d ever want to do is hurt you, you know? It’s not going to change anything.”

As he leaves, Louis notes that he’s already moved from “I” to “we” and just shakes his head. It’s already changing things. That’s okay, he reassures himself, but he knows that he’s not someone who loves change or surprises, and it’s going to take him some time to adjust. He knows he’s being a bit selfish, but if a guy can’t be honest in his own bed, he thinks, where can he be? It’s not that he wants either of them in that way, but rather...he rolls onto his belly and sighs, finally admitting it to himself. He’s lonely, is all. Even in a big city like Boston, or maybe _especially_ in a big city like Boston, it can be hard to find that person that you genuinely connect with. In any case, now he’s on his own for dinner, which means, for tonight, pizza delivery and television. He grabs his phone, and gets to work.

While he’s waiting for the delivery, he hops onto Facebook, and sees that he’s gotten a new message.

**Ed Twist: Hey, how’s your day going? Sorry about keeping you up so late, I didn’t realize how late it was. Time difference ha ha.**

He feels himself smile and without overthinking it, types back:

**LT91: Thanks for asking man. It was honestly a bit shit. Overslept, didn’t get to eat and then my roommate told me he’s been dating my best friend for like two months and I didn’t even know.  
          He’s been pining for him for ages so I’m glad they got their shit together but yeah. It’s weird. Time difference? Where the hell are you?**

He hits send and gets up to pay the pizza man. After he gets himself settled, he chooses a movie to watch and takes a long swig of coke, trying to get his raging headache to simmer down. He grabs his phone and sees a new message.

**Ed Twist: Aww that sucks, hopefully you’re getting food and stuff now. It’s not good not to eat!**  
              **I am in Hawaii for work right now. I travel a lot for my job.**  
**And, um, your friends? They’re both guys?**

L **T91:** **Hawaii? That’s so cool! I've never been! I’ve never really been much of anywhere, honestly.  
          And yes. Two guys. Is that an issue?**

**Ed Twist: NO!  
               I mean, not at all. That’s cool actually. I don’t really know many people who are, you know. Out.**

Louis frowns at this. It’s 2017, and yeah, things aren’t perfect, but they’re a heck of a lot better than they used to be, and he wonders what sort of life this guy is living that he doesn’t know any out gay men, especially at his age.

**LT91: Wow, that sucks. I can’t imagine being gay and not knowing other people. I mean, I’m gay too so maybe it makes sense that a lot of my friends are too?**

As he hits send, he suddenly cringes, realizing that Mr. Twist has not, in fact, actually come out to him, and what if he’s not gay? Just because there was a ton of gay stuff on his timeline, not to mention Harry Styles, that doesn’t make him gay, Louis. He mentally kicks himself and quickly types,

**LT91: Not that I’m assuming you’re gay, of course, Mr. Twist.**

**Ed Twist: <<laughing emoji>> Mr. Twist? What the hell?  
               And. I’m gay.**

There’s a pause where Louis sees Ed _Twist is typing_ and then it goes away, and nothing comes through. Shit, shit. What if Mr. Twist isn’t out? What if he’s, like, having a sexuality crisis at 45 and it’s all Louis’ fault?

**LT91: Well, I don’t know. Mr. Twist is polite, right?**

**Ed Twist: Just call me Ed. Mr. Twist sounds like my dad.**

Oh god, a dad joke if Louis has ever heard one. He takes a deep breath. He’s young enough that he’s still a bit freaked out by calling grownups by their first names. His mother had certainly drilled good manners into him, but since he’s been asked...

**LT91: Okay Ed. What are you doing in Hawaii?**

**Ed Twist: Not much really. Have a work thing tonight.**

**LT91: What do you do?**

**Ed Twist: I’m in music, so it’s an industry thing. I’ll have to go in a bit.**

**LT91: Ooo la la. Have you met anyone famous??**

**Ed Twist: Trust me, Louis. Famous people aren’t that interesting.**

**LT91: THAT MEANS YOU HAVE ED. You’re holding out on me. C’mon, let me live through you. I’m sitting here in my underwear eating pizza, watching tv and ignoring my stats homework.**

**Ed Twist: <<laughing emoji>> That sounds way more fun, honestly. Shit, okay, I gotta go.**

**LT91: Well have fun, man. Have a fancy glass of wine for me.**

**Ed Twist: Will do. Later.**

Louis tosses his phone to the side and turns up the volume on the TV. There’s some red carpet thing going on, and he sees the scroll underneath saying “Live from Hawaii, the US premiere of _Made in the AM.”_ He frowns and then remembers, that’s Harry Styles’ new movie. His sisters are dying to go, and had begged him to come home this weekend so they could go opening weekend. It had broken his heart to say no, but he’s got too much to do here at school.

He watches as the stick-thin commentator says with breathless excitement, “I’m here on the red carpet with Harry Styles as he’s about to head in for the premier of his first film! Harry, how are you feeling tonight?”

The camera pans over and, huh. Louis hadn’t realized that Harry Styles was quite that attractive. In his mind, the kid is a gangly 17 year old with a few spots and limbs a bit too long for the rest of him, but this guy. This guy is something else. He’s grown out the floofy curls Louis remembers, though the dimples are the same as he cracks a smile. He’s all broad shoulders and sharp jawline, and his hair is longer now, brushing his shoulders.

“Well, Camilla, I’m doing great. Very excited for the premier tonight.”

“Now, Harry,” the announcer purrs, running a hand over Harry’s firm bicep, and Louis sees the way Harry’s body stills and the smile goes flat, and frowns. “People were pretty surprised that you took this role, everyone expected you to take the leading man in a rom-com route, what do you think of that?”

Louis sees Harry steel himself, and wonders at how the announcer isn’t adjusting her behavior at his obvious discomfort. Obvious to Louis, anyway. He sees how Harry takes an unobtrusive step backwards, putting just enough distance between himself and the woman that she’s forced to drop her arm.

“I read the script, and was really really blown away by it,” Harry is saying, and Louis frowns again, because he’d thought this movie was some lightweight rom-com, but now he’s wondering. “What the character Chloe goes through in this film is really stark, very real, and my character, Alex, coming to terms with the pain she’s suffered, and how he can and can’t help her, it was a really demanding journey. I just really felt like it touched me.”

The announcer purrs, and the camera has to adjust as she moves into his personal space again and Louis sighs, because even if he’s not a huge fan of the guy, that fucking sucks.

“So your character Alex, he’s so supportive to her?”

Harry frowns and adjusts nervously. “Well, Alex isn’t the hero of the story, Camilla. This is Chloe’s story, the story of the events that break her, and her strength and courage in coming back from that. Alex is her friend, and so he plays a role in that, of course.”

“And your new album, it’s been at number one for three weeks now, you must be excited about that?”

Harry gives a more genuine smile. “I’m thrilled, of course, that the fans are enjoying it. It’s a bit of a departure, musically, for me, and I wasn’t sure how it would be received, but I do have the best fans in the world, and they’ve been very positive about it.”

As Louis watches the interview, he can’t help but be somewhat charmed by this guy, who is handling this piece-of-shit interviewer with grace and more kindness than she deserves, in Louis’ opinion. He grabs his laptop and Googles the film, reading the summary with raised eyebrows.

**_Made in the AM_ ** _is the story of Chloe Adams, with a stunning performance from Daisy Ridley, who plays a champion surfer who suffers a devastating blow when she is attacked by a bull shark. She suffers severe damage to her leg and arm, and the movie follows the story of her recovery, both physically and emotionally. She is the sole support for her younger sister and if she cannot make a living from surfing, she is in danger of losing custody of her sister, but also suffers from severe PTSD as a result of the accident. The movie follows her journey of survival and healing, particularly through the support her friend, Alex, played by  newcomer to the big screen, Harry Styles, who delivers a surprisingly nuanced performance as the young man who loves Chloe. The title refers to the many conversations that Chloe and Alex have while sitting on the roof of her garage late into the night, as Alex struggles to find a way to help Chloe heal._

Huh. Louis sits back, and frowns. He’s always written off Harry Styles as a lightweight, but that role is an unexpected one.

He watches as the announcer begins to stray into personal territory, and watches as Harry Style’s body language becomes even more closed off.

“So, Harry,” the announcer trails her hand over his arm again, “there were rumors of a summer romance during filming with you and Miss Ridley, any comment on that?”

Harry laughs awkwardly and Louis cringes on his behalf. “No, of course not. Daisy’s a lovely girl, of course, and I was so lucky to be in this film with her, but no. No romance.”

“Any other lucky lady for girls across America to be jealous of?”

Louis rolls his eyes. For fucks sake, how is this journalism? That kind of movie, there’d be all sorts of interesting questions you could ask. Hell, Louis could probably come up with twenty or so right now.

Harry purses his lips and shakes his head. “No, there’s no one at the moment.”

“Well, folks,” the announcer lets go of Harry and turns back to the camera, “You heard it here first, Harry Styles is single and looking for love.”

Harry opens his mouth, and then his eyes skew off to the side, and he frowns, looking absolutely mutinous for a split second and then his face is wiped clean and an affable smile comes back into play. “Thanks so much, Camilla, always a...pleasure.” He nods to the camera and moves off down the red carpet, and Louis flicks over to the movie channel to see what’s on.

He quickly sends off a message to Mr. Twist, Ed, Louis reminds himself.

**LT91: Just saw your boy Harry Styles on the red carpet. That announcer was shit. The movie sounds interesting.**

He doesn’t hear back from Ed until the next morning, which isn’t too surprising, what with the time difference and all. The message had come in at 5 am Boston time.

**Ed Twist: Yeah she’s the worst.**

Louis heads into his usual Friday. He’s got classes, he and Liam have a standing gym date, and he’s got to get some work done before he and Liam hop on the T to head over to Harvard Square, as it’s their turn to cross the river this week. He and Ed have exchanged a few messages and Louis finds himself thinking of the guy again and again throughout the day.

He wishes Mr. Twist had some pictures of himself on his Facebook. Louis has gone and looked through all of his photos, but there really aren’t that many. That generation isn’t into selfies the way his own is, Louis reminds himself. He wonders if he could ask for one and then frowns, that would be just weird. Sure the guy is gay, and there have been a couple of exchanges that have almost felt a bit...flirty, but no. He’s old, way too old for Louis, even if he’s the first guy outside of Liam and Zayn to ask him how his day is for far too long.

He feels his phone buzz in his pocket as he and Liam get off the T and make their way up the stairs and down Church Street to the Border. They’re early enough that they can get a table for the 10 of them, it’s a full house tonight, Louis notes happily, and they all settle in, ordering drinks and appetizers. Once the drinks have been set down, Louis lifts his margarita with a grin.

“I’d like to propose a toast tonight…” he says, and he hears Liam groan next to him. “To Zayn and Liam, who’ve been fucking on the DL for weeks now, and have finally come clean!”

There’s a gasp from the table, and more than one shriek of “What the fuck?” Louis sips his drink as Zayn glares at him, and makes a wide-eyed, innocent face at him as chaos ensues.

By the time he gets back to his room, it’s late, almost 11:00, and he’s tired and more than a little drunk. He opens his phone and sees the notification and feels a moment of guilt that he hadn’t answered, especially when he sees the note.

**Ed Twist: On the plane. BORED.**

That was almost 4 hours ago, but he sends a quick message anyway.

**LT91: Where you headed now? Glamorous life!**

There’s an immediate answer.

**Ed Twist: Back to LA for now. I have some events in the next few days. What did you do tonight? Was it family dinner night? How’d it go with your friends?**

Oh. Wow. Louis feels a small flush of pleasure because he remembered. He wonders if this guy is married? Has kids?

**LT91: Um, yeah it was. It was fun. Everyone knows now that they’re together, so that was amusing.**

**Ed Twist: Yeah? How did everyone take it?**

**LT91: <<laughing/crying emoji>> Pretty well. Lots of shouting but everyone knows Liam’s been pining forever, and I guess Zayn’s best friends knew how he felt, and Niall, that’s Z’s roommate, apparently walked in on them once so he knew but was sworn to secrecy. I’m glad I know. They’re actually really cute together.  
** **#jealous**

**Ed Twist: For real?**

**LT91: What?**

**Ed Twist: Are you really jealous?**

It’s very weird, Louis thinks, how in some ways it’s easier to talk to a stranger on the internet, brought to you by Facebook’s random algorithm, than it is to talk to his best friends.

**Ed Twist: I’m sorry, it’s none of my business.**

**LT91: No, it’s fine. I was just thinking about that. No, I’m not jealous in the sense of, I don’t want either of them in that way. I mean, I’ve kissed them both ha ha**

**Ed Twist: Oh REALLY**

**LT91: Ha ha yeah. I mean, nothing much. Zayn and I came out together, so we messed around a few times but we were kids. Like 14 or so. And we’ve known each other our whole lives so it was just weird. I mean, he’s hot as fuck but just a giant nerd. And I met Liam before college started and during orientation week, we tried it, but yeah, same.  
They’re like brothers to me. So I’m not jealous like that. But man, now that I know, I can’t even believe I missed it, because they’re so fucking obvious, with the little touches, and the smiles and the eye fucking and all.**

**Ed Twist: ...eye fucking?**

**LT91: You know, when someone looks at you like they’re not just picturing you naked, but like they’ve already fucked you? Like that.**

There is a long pause and Louis wonders if he’s gone too far and then the indicator that Mr. Twist is typing flashes on.

**Ed Twist: Oh. Yeah.  
               That.**

**LT91: It’s more...I haven’t dated anyone like that. I’ve fucked around and I’ve got a couple of FWB but one transferred to UCSD and the other is in Germany for the year so I don’t even have that right now.**

**Ed Twist: So you’re horny?**

**LT91: Mr. Twist!!**  
          **...Yeah. And worse.**  
**I’m lonely.**

**Ed Twist: I know how that feels.**

*****

Something shifts between them during this conversation, and over the next several weeks, Louis finds himself growing closer and closer to the mysterious Mr. Twist. They talk about almost everything. They talk about music and culture. They talk about friendship and growing up, and Louis finds Ed very insightful. Of course, he reminds himself, he’s older, middle-aged. You’d hope that he’s learned some things in his years. They talk about Louis’ fears about graduating and his plans to move to LA to try and break into music producing. They talk about what they’re watching, and reading, and listening to. Louis shares his growing fascination with Harry Styles’ new album.

**Ed Twist: I can’t believe you’re into him now. I mean, didn’t you actually say you thought he was a total lightweight?**

**LT91: shut up! I mean. Yeah, I did. And his first album is really bleh. Total manufactured bubblegum pop, not my thing. But this album, you can see he’s getting more and more control of his sound, and his voice has matured nicely. And he’s branched out from puppy love songs. I think someone broke Harry Styles’ heart, Ed. I do.**

**Ed Twist: Ha. No one broke his heart, Louis. He’s fine.**

**LT91: WAIT A MINUTE. Have you met him?**

**Ed Twist: Uh. No?**

**LT91: LIAR. I can’t believe you’ve been holding out on me.**

**Ed Twist: I didn’t know you’d become a fan!!**

**LT91: I’m not a FAN, Ed. Just. I think he’s talented. He’s got a great voice. I saw the movie with my sisters last weekend, and he was good in that too. Kid is talented as hell, and hot as fuck of course.**

There’s a long pause and then Ed types,

**Ed Twist: You think he’s hot?**

**LT91: <<eyeroll emoji>> Everyone thinks he’s hot, Ed. At least, everyone under the age of 40, which lets you off the hook ha ha. **

**Ed Twist: Wait, what?**

**LT91: Just saying. Yeah, he’s hot. But he seems like a decent sort too. And the kid is talented. I know they say he’s into older chicks but I don’t know. Doesn’t read that to me. Who knows, you can’t believe anything they put in print anyway.**

**Ed Twist: Yeah, that’s true.  
               What do you mean, it doesn’t read that way to you?**

**LT91: Just. I mean. I know you’re gay and whatever, I don’t know how long you’ve been out. But the kid only ever uses gender-neutral pronouns. Have you seen the shit he wears on the red carpet? And that one guy even asked him and he said he doesn’t label his sexuality. You know who doesn’t label their sexuality, Ed?**

**Ed Twist: Who?**

**LT91: Queer people.**

**Ed Twist: I have to go.**

Louis frowns. One of the things he’s noticed is that Ed tends to have to go very abruptly, but this feels a little different and it seems like there’s something he’s missing here. Some piece of information he doesn’t have. Ed’s been very cagey about just what, exactly, it is that he does in the music industry, even though they’ve talked at length about Louis’ hopes and aspirations, and the industry in general. Ed doesn’t share a lot of his personal details in general, though he’s mentioned that he’s single, has a house in LA, but travels a lot for work. He’s shared a lot of what he feels, Louis thinks, but not a lot about who he actually is, and Louis has wondered more than once if he’s hiding something. The thing is, he’s a great listener, a wonderful conversationalist, and is so caring and sweet over messenger. He always asks Louis how his day has gone, always remembers things like the spat with Zayn or the stats quiz. With finals coming up, Louis has been very stressed, and his talks with Ed have been the best and brightest part of his days for weeks now.

He’d finally come clean to Zayn and Liam about his friendship with Ed, when Zayn called him out for being on his phone throughout yet another family dinner. They’d been concerned until Louis had showed them their conversations to prove that Ed wasn’t just some guy creeping on him over the internet.

For the next few days, Louis is preoccupied with finals. He doesn’t even think about the fact that he hasn’t heard from Ed in over 48 hours, which is unheard of, until he gets out of his stats final and when he pulls up the app, there’s no new message. He frowns, and looks at their last convo. Finally, he sends a quick message.

**LT91: Hey, everything ok? Just got out of my stats final. Now I have to write two papers and then I am DONE!**

He gets home, dumps his things, talks to Zayn and Liam a bit, and then hops into the shower. He’s been in the library for hours and he’s gotten a bit whiffy, if he does say so himself. His papers aren’t due for 3 days, so he’s got some time, and he decides to give himself the night off. Not to go out or do anything crazy, but just not worry too much about what he’s got left. He takes a leisurely shower, and then throws caution to the winds and shaves. Wrapped in his towel, he heads into his room, calling out a goodbye as Zayn and Liam head out.

“We’re going to head back to mine,” Zayn says, sticking his head in the door as Louis sits on the side of his bed and ponders what to do. “I’ve got a paper due tomorrow and Liam has that final.”

Louis nods. Liam tends to explode into a supernova of anxiety at finals, and Louis has to admit, it’s been a nice having Zayn to shoulder some of that burden. “Want to do dinner tomorrow?” He asks, and Zayn grins.

“Sounds awesome, I’ll text you when we’re done, okay? I think Liam’s exam is out at 5.”

“Perfect,” Louis stretches, thinking maybe he’ll just go to bed. “I’ll be writing all day tomorrow, so dinner at 5 would be awesome. Good luck on that final, brother,” and with that, Zayn and Liam are gone, leaving Louis with the apartment to himself.

He turns on his window fan and lets the damp towel drop to the floor. It’s late May, and has been hot the last few days, and they don’t have AC, so the fan will have to do. He lets the cool air blow over his skin as he opens his phone and raises an eyebrow at the Facebook Messenger notification. Huh.

**Ed Twist: Hey.**

**LT91: Hey yourself.**

**Ed Twist: How’d it go? The stats final.**

**LT91: Pretty good, I think. I studied my fucking ASS off so I hope it did anyway.  
         Uh. How are you?**

**Ed Twist: I’ve been ok. Um, I had a question for you.**

**LT91: Ok?**

**Ed Twist: How busy are you tonight?**

**LT91: Not much actually. I’ve got two more papers, but they’re not due until Monday, so I was just gonna hang out. Why, you wanna watch a movie together?**

This is something they’ve done a few times, put the same movie on and talked as they watched. It occurs to Louis suddenly that those nights were more fun than any actual date that he’s had in ages, and as he thinks back, he realizes that he hasn’t actually been on a real date in months. Not since...not since he started talking to Ed.

**Ed Twist: No.**

There’s a long pause where he clearly starts typing and deletes whatever it is he’s writing several times, and Louis finds himself getting more and more anxious, wondering if he’s done something to make Ed angry, or to hurt him, because something feels very off, when finally a sentence comes through.

**Ed Twist: I’m in Boston.**

**LT91: What? You didn’t tell me you were coming.**

**Ed Twist: I, uh. I didn’t know. Last minute thing. I’m in Boston.**

There’s another long pause, and then,

**Ed Twist: Do you want to meet?**

Louis feels his heart begin to race but can’t figure out why. It’s just Ed. Ed, his friend, who he’s been talking to for weeks. Ed, with the corny dad jokes, who’s probably some middle aged businessman. Ed, who loves comic and pop culture and foreign films with gorgeous soundtracks where nothing happens very slowly. Ed. Just Ed. So why is pulse racing?

**LT91: Sure, that sounds great. Where?**

He quickly runs over the various safety tips he’s read about how to meet up safely with someone from the internet. Meet in a public place, tell your friends, maybe bring a whistle and some mace. He doesn’t have either of those, but he texts Zayn quickly and says “Ed is here in town OMG OMG OMG he wants to meet what do I do????”

Zayn texts back, “Y r u freaking?”

Louis sighs, he’ll never understand Zayn’s method of texting. “Because what if it’s weird? What if he’s super-hot and I get a boner? What if he’s a jerk in real life?”

Zayn says, “It’ll b wrd at first. Thn it wnt. Wear yr skinny jns so if you pop a stiffy he won’t notice. He’s not a jerk, you know him.”

Louis pauses at that. Yes, he does know Ed. He might not know everything about him, but he’s prepared to swear in a court of law, or worse, to his mother, that he’s gotten to know the real person behind that screen name, and who that person is, is really kind of great. It sucks that he’s too old for Louis because if he wasn’t? Louis has a feeling he’d be reading a lot more into this than there can possibly be.

He texts back to Zayn, “I fucking hate how you text. Ok. It’s gonna be weird but you’re right. I do know him.”

Zayn texts back the kissing face emoji and the middle finger and Louis goes back to the messenger app.

**Ed Twist: There’s a coffee shop in the lobby of my hotel. Any chance you could meet me here?**

**LT91: Sure, I’ll hop on the T. I need to get dressed, just showered, so I’ll be there soon.**

**Ed Twist: Sounds good, I’ll meet you there.**

So Louis throws on some clothes. So sue him, he wants to look nice for this first meeting. He chooses black skinny jeans and a light blue, short-sleeved, button-up shirt that brings out the blue of his eyes. He styles his hair and looks in the mirror. Okay, this is as good as it’s going to get. He ties on his converse hightops, grabs his phone, wallet, and front door key, and heads out.

He’s in luck, there’s a train pulling up just as he gets to the station, and he hops on. It’s about 4:00, so it’s not so crowded that he can’t get a seat, and soon he’s at Copley. He exits the station, takes a moment to orient himself and then heads across the square to the Plaza hotel. Jesus, that’s a really nice hotel. He wonders once again what exactly it is that Ed does, but whatever it is, he’s clearly doing just fine. He approaches the hotel, feeling suddenly very young and immature, and smiles at the doorman who opens the heavy glass door for him, saying “Welcome the Plaza, young man.”

He blinks as he looks around the lobby, letting his eyes adjust after the bright sunlight of the June afternoon, and spots the coffee shop, called The Friendly Bean, tucked away in the corner. As he approaches, he frowns. There’s a guy standing just to the side of the door. He’s quite big, very built, and he’s just...standing there, looking around. He watches Louis as he approaches, and then, inexplicably, he smiles warmly, and opens the door for Louis, who steps into the small, cozy shop. Louis looks around carefully. The shop is empty, except for a man, standing towards the back, with two steaming mugs and a plate of pastries on the table in front of him.

Louis stares, because this man isn’t middle-aged, not even close. This man is young, no older than he is. He’s wearing slim-fit trousers that appear to be a silk jacquard with a lovely floral pattern woven into them, paired with a slouchy sweater with, of all things, a tiger embroidered onto it as well as the words “Blind For Love”, and a pair of loafers that Louis is pretty sure are Gucci. He’s a bit taller than Louis, well-built without being too bulky. He’s got chestnut curls shot with bronze, a light stubble on his chin and an impeccable jawline, and as Louis approaches slowly, he can see that this man has honest-to-God green eyes.

Basically, it’s Harry Styles.

He can see the nerves on Harry’s face as he approaches, and he can’t quite get a grip on his thoughts, which are buzzing like an angry bees' nest in his mind. He pauses a couple of feet away, observing how this man, Harry Styles, is clasping his hands together, looking anxiously at Louis as he takes a deep breath and then says, “Hi, Louis,” dispelling any last doubt in  Louis’ mind that this is actually Ed. His Ed is Harry Styles.

“You’re not a middle-aged business man,” is all Louis can say at first.

“Um,” Ed looks as tongue-tied as Louis feels. “No. No, I’m not. Do you want to sit down?”

Louis shakes his head. “What the fuck? I don’t understand what the hell is happening here. You’re Harry Styles, obviously. You’re Ed?”

Ed's face falls when Louis shakes his head and he says carefully, “I know. I know I lied to you, but I couldn’t tell you at first, I didn’t know…”

“Didn’t know what?” Louis wonders. “Didn’t know if I was who I said I was? All you had to do was look at my Facebook, man.” His voice sounds off, he can hear it, and he knows Ed hears it too. “And we’ve been talking for weeks. I gave you so much information, you could have checked any of the stuff I told you.”

“No, I knew pretty much right away, that you were who you said you were. That you didn’t know who I was. But I didn’t know at first if I could trust you,” Ed's eyes are imploring him to understand, but all Louis can feel is betrayed.

“I trusted _you,”_ he says, quietly, and Ed starts in response.

“I know,” he says, finally. “I know you did. Fuck, Louis, don’t you think I wanted to tell you? I wanted you to know, but I couldn’t. You would have had to sign NDAs, you would have had to promise not to tell anyone, and then, you became a _fan,_ and fuck, I didn’t know what to do.”

“Why are you here?” Louis says finally. “You never would have had to tell me, so why are you fucking here?”

He grips the back of the chair in front of him, desperate to ground himself somehow. He’s not sure why he’s so upset, and he’s pretty sure he needs to get out of here soon before he cries in front of Harry fucking Styles, because that is not something he wants to have happen.

“I’m here because in our last conversation, I realized something.” Ed runs a hand through his perfectly-styled hair and Louis can’t help but notice that perfect profile as Ed glances off to the side for a moment, as if he can’t quite meet Louis’s gaze.

“And what was that?”

“Louis, everything I shared with you in our conversations, it was all true. I never lied to you, I never told you something that wasn’t true.”

“No,” Louis says after a moment, “No, you just lied by omission, Ed. You didn’t tell me the most basic truth about yourself. About who you really are.”

“No, Louis, that’s not true.” Ed is pleading now, and Louis wonders faintly where the staff is, if they’re somewhere listening to this conversation, and how, exactly, Ed, no  _Harry,_ managed to get them out. “You know me, _you do._ Please, you have to believe me, that I shared who I really am with you. You _see_ me, Louis, better than anyone ever has. And what I realized in that last conversation, was that not only did you see the _real_ me in Ed Twist, but you saw the real Harry Styles too, behind all the public bullshit. And you let me see you, too. I know you did.”

Louis just stares at him, dumbfounded. “What the hell do you mean?”

“Please. Just. Can you just sit for a moment. You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to but I want you to understand.”

Louis pauses, thinking it over, and then nods in concession and sits carefully. Sighing in relief, Harry slides into the seat opposite him, and pushes one mug towards him. “I, uh, I got you a vanilla latte and a cinnamon scone.”

Louis closes his eyes for a moment and presses his lips together as he remembers sharing his favorites with Ed early in their conversations, where they’d realized that they had the same favorite coffee shop order.

“So, what, exactly, is it that you want me to understand?”

“I want you to understand that you know me. Yeah, I couldn't tell you about my  job.”

“Ed,” Louis interrupts, “You let me think you were a middle-aged business man having a sexuality crisis at 45.”

Ed snorts at that. “I never said that, I didn’t even realize you thought I was old until you made that comment about me being off the hook because it was only people under 40 who think I’m hot.”

Louis thinks back to all the things he’s said about Harry to Ed, and his face flames. “Oh my god, I feel like an idiot. You must have been laughing at me.”

“No.” Ed reaches out and then stops himself. “My god, no, Louis. You’re not an idiot and I never, ever once laughed at you. I mean, I laughed at you all the time, because you made me laugh, because you’re the funniest person I know, but I never laughed at you for anything you said about me. In fact,” Ed flushes and looks away, “You’ve given me the most honest feedback I've ever gotten, and the best compliment of anyone, ever. You weren’t a fan, and then you really listened, you really gave me a chance, and you told me I was talented. I don’t think I even really believed that until you said it. But you,” and here Ed turns the full force of his gaze to Louis, “You made me feel it.”

Louis looks into his coffee, takes a long sip. It really is delicious. “I don’t know what to say, Ed. Harry? What do I even call you?”

Ed holds out his hand. “I’m Harry Styles, it’s nice to meet you.”

Louis looks at him for a long moment and then, sighing, reaches back to him. “Hi, I’m Louis Tomlinson.”

They look at each other for a heartbeat or two and then Louis pulls his hand away.

“I still don’t understand why it was so important that you had to make a special trip to Boston to meet me. I know you didn’t have this planned.”

Harry says, “Because when I realized that you could _see_ me, the real me, behind that public persona that the media sells, I also realized that I’m.” He takes a deep breath, runs his hands through his perfect hair, an uncharacteristically agitated look on his face. “I’m falling for you, Lou. Hard.”

The words ring out between them, and suddenly, Louis can’t catch his breath. He doesn’t have the faintest idea of what to do or say here, and even as his treacherous heart leaps at Harry’s words, he shakes his head.

“No, what the fuck.” He shoves his chair back and stands up, and Harry looks stricken. “You can’t just do that, Harry. You can’t show up and tell me that you’ve been lying to me, that you’re not who I thought you were, and then drop a bomb like you think you’re _falling_ for me. I don’t even know what that _means,_ and anyway. You don’t know me. Not really. That’s not fucking fair.”

He turns, and begins to walk away, feeling like his heart is going to break in the middle of chest. Sure he’d, well, _loved_ his talks with Ed, sure he’d felt cared for, and understood, and seen and known and all that amazing stuff, and sure, he’d wondered a time or two if maybe, just maybe, Ed could be it for him, but this feels like too big a gap to bridge. Harry’s a world-famous popstar and actor, and Louis is apparently just some gullible college student.

And then he hears Harry speak.

“I do fucking know you, Louis Tomlinson. I know that you’re smart as shit and don’t give yourself any credit for it. I know that you’re putting yourself through college so you’re not a burden to your mom, and that you work too many shifts at the bar to pay for books. I know that you’re funny, and you have the most inappropriate sense of humor that never, _ever_ fails to make me laugh. I know that you’re loyal, and generous, and loving, and that your friends fucking adore you. I know that you hate surprises and you always flip to the end of the book to make sure your favorite character doesn’t die. I know that you’re messy and always leave laundry to the last minute. I know that you’re not scared of the dark but you don’t like heights. I know that when you were five you wanted to be an astronaut but, like I said, scared of heights, so you decided to go into music production instead. I know you write lyrics on your stats homework but you think they’re no good so you’ve never shown them to anyone, until me. Do I need to go on?”

Louis is standing, frozen, his back to Harry as Harry speaks, and he feels his eyes well up.

“I know you’re surround by people who care about you, so much, but still, sometimes late at night, you’re scared you’ll never find anyone who will really love you, and I felt the same way, until now. Louis, please. Please. I’m asking you. Just give me a chance to show you what we could be.”

Louis scrubs an impatient hand over his eyes and finally turns back to face Harry. He pauses for a moment, and then begins. “I know that people don’t give you enough credit for being as smart as you are. I know you wrote every fucking lyric on your last album and a couple of those songs are absolute genius, but _Tell Me_ _Now_ is trite bullshit and I know you know that too.”

Harry starts moving towards Louis as he speaks, slowly, as if approaching a wild animal that he doesn’t want to scare off.

Louis continues. “I know you have a dry sense of humor that doesn’t always translate well into print. I know you put up with such invasive bullshit that I don’t see how you don’t lose your shit on national tv daily. I know you’re kind, and caring, and you get distracted by shiny things regularly. I know that you’re funny, and warm, and generous to a fault, and that you have never forgotten anything important I’ve told you since we started talking. I know that somehow it’s come to be that my day doesn’t feel like it’s really started until I’ve said good morning to you, and that I don’t want to go to bed until we say goodnight.”

Harry is grinning now as he approaches Louis. “That sounds to me like maybe I do know you. And you know me.”

Louis takes a deep breath and then, slowly, nods as he meets Harry’s gaze. “But how do we know if that can, I don’t know, translate to real life? I mean, what if we don’t really get on? I don’t even know what you want from me?”

Harry quirks one eyebrow, and then carefully runs his fingers along Louis’ jaw and across his chin to cup his face. “What part of ‘I’m falling for you’ was unclear?” He whispers and leans in to brush his lips across Louis’. “What part of ‘I _know_ you’ did you not understand? And as to what I want?”

Louis feels himself leaning into that sweet heat, chasing Harry’s lips with his own as he whispers, “Yeah, what do you want?”

Harry pulls back and says, “I just want a chance, Lou. That’s all.”

Louis takes a deep breath. A chance. He can do that, he thinks as he reaches up to cup Ed’s, no _Harry’s,_ cheek and smiles as Harry watches him carefully, a small grin teasing his own lips.

“This isn’t going to be easy,” he says quietly. “I mean, our lives, they’re really different. Honestly, it might have been easier if you were a 42-year-old businessman, don’t you think?”

Harry laughs, and the barking sound makes Louis grin, as Harry’s hand covers his own, pressed to his cheek. “I’m sorry I’m not a middle-aged businessman.” He grins as Louis rolls his eyes, laughing in spite of himself. “I mean, I hope you don’t mind too much that I’m...you know. Me.”

“I think I could become accustomed to it,” Louis murmurs, and finally lets himself do what he’s been longing to do, and presses his mouth to Harry’s.  

The kiss is gentle, soft. It’s more of a whisper than a shout, a quiet apology offered and accepted, a promise of things yet to come. It feels, Louis thinks, as he eases back, and looks into Harry’s smiling eyes, like a beginning. It feels like hope.

 


End file.
